Yes
by janiejanine
Summary: The proposal, surprisingly, is the easy part.


Their chess matches were meant to be relaxing. This one wasn't.

Cullen's mind was on anything but the game. He hadn't been able to concentrate all afternoon. With any luck, Judith hadn't noticed.

He sneaked a glance at her. She was studying him, brows drawn, like he was an especially complex schematic. "What's going on?" she asked.

Of course. "What do you mean?"

She ticked off her points on her fingers. "I was in your office yesterday, looking for the reports from our last trip to the Emprise, and it took a long time to find them. They were misfiled. When Leliana cornered you this morning, you looked positively murderous. And I've left you at least three openings in this game alone, and you didn't even notice. Is everything all right?"

He looked down at the board. She was right. Shit.

Maybe everybody felt like an idiot when they proposed. He'd made the decision weeks ago, but hadn't been able to bring himself to do it, and he was growing steadily more annoyed at his own ineptitude. Every time an opportune moment came up, he second-guessed himself. If something went wrong, if he made a complete fool of himself, if he'd made a mistake and misread her feelings...there were too many ifs.

It kept him up at night, trying to come up with exactly the right words. He told her he loved her all the time; it should be better than that. She still gave him butterflies, but it had been a long time since he'd experienced such intense, palm-sweating nervousness, and it galled him that he was letting it put him at a standstill.

All his worries had coalesced into a constant state of mild irritation-not the feeling he'd hoped to associate with this particular event.

He couldn't keep on like this. Experience had taught him to rely on actions when words failed.

Action, he could do.

She let out a startled squeak as he swept her into his arms and captured her lips with his.

He poured everything he had into that kiss, every bit of affection and desire solely devoted to making her melt. (His own meltiness, he told himself, was merely a fringe benefit.) If he couldn't tell her how very much he wanted her-today, every day, forever-he'd damn well show her.

She molded herself to him, kissing him back with a fervor that turned his brain to mush, and he almost forgot what the point of it had been in the first place. Perhaps it was working too well.

He drew back, caught his breath, and, before he lost his nerve, said, "Marry me."

"Is _that_ what was bothering you?" she replied, blinking in surprise. "Of course I will."

"Really?" Surely that had been too easy.

"That was the one thing you _didn't_ have to worry about." Her smile was radiant.

Relief and joy bloomed so bright his knees went weak. He pulled her close and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. A lock of her hair worked its way into his nose, and he stifled a sneeze. He was going to be inhaling stray hairs every day for the rest of his life. He grinned at the thought.

Her lips traced a path from the underside of his chin down his throat, and his grip tightened. He was just pondering where the nearest soft surface might be when she spoke again.

"We should probably tell Josephine first. She'll want to get started right away. Do you have any objections to letting her plan it? Just thinking about it is making my head spin."

"It doesn't have to be elaborate," he said, faint alarm beginning to stir.

"I know. But if we left anyone out, they'd be insulted, and we'd have a diplomatic incident. That's what Josephine would say, and much as I hate to admit it, I think she'd be right."

"Maybe we could keep it small. We could talk to her. She wouldn't put us in thumbscrews." He paused. "Would she?"

"She'd be disappointed. I think I'd rather have the thumbscrews."

He had to agree. Josephine's disappointed look could bring anyone to their knees.

"The last wedding I went to lasted five days," Judith said contemplatively. "The guests filled up the estate, and their entourages took over the village. There were two duels, three broken engagements, and one nearly-fatal fall into a wine fountain." Her eyes widened. "You'll have to meet my family."

Oh, no. Somehow, among all his other concerns, that hadn't occurred to him. "You'll have to meet _my_ family," he said.

They shared a look of mutual horror.

"We _are_ in the mountains," she said. "Maybe we can find a nice cave to move into until it's all over."

"Your door has a lock. We don't have to come out. I'm sure we could find a way to occupy ourselves." If they were going to spend days besieged by guests, barricaded in a bedroom with her was the way to do it.

"Tempting as it is, I think they'd root us out eventually. Besides, I'd put up with worse than that, if I got to be married to you at the end of it." She twined her fingers through his. "Shall we go see about that bed?"

"I didn't even mention…"

"No, but you were thinking it."

He couldn't argue with that. There would be, he had to admit, certain advantages to having a wife who could read his mind. Best of all, he'd have years to spend returning the favor.


End file.
